Comfort

"Take comfort where you find it."  Routine was both a comfort and pain yesterday.  Doing normal, everyday things was good.  Not giving three treats in the morning was not.  Not hearing ticky-toes following behind me was not.  Constantly watching to see if she was breathing was a habit hard to break.  Knowing Bessie Anne was not hurting was good.  Feeding Stanley and his girls and putting down alfalfa for the goats and filling Missy's bowl was good.  Celeste has taken on the role of comforter.  She is by my side or in my lap constantly.  She knows.

What a comfort photos are.  They fill in the gaps in our memory.  Deb sent me this picture of  Bess when she was a little girl.  Look at those soulful eyes.  I loved her from the start.

Who knew that dark brown, short-haired puppy would evolve into this shaggy blond?

Shakespeare said that "sleep knits up the raveled sleeve of care."  I guess that's so.  I didn't awake until 7 this morning and I'm not having the leaky-eye syndrome I had yesterday (at least not so far).